Azaranica is a non-biased news aggregator on Hazaras and Hazarajat...The main aim is to promote understanding and respect for cultural identities by highlighting the realities they are facing on daily basis...Hazaras have been the victim of active persecution and discrimination and one of the reasons among many has been the lack of information, awareness and disinformation...... To further awareness against violence, disinformation and discrimination, we have launched a sister Blog for youths and youths are encouraged to share their stories and opinions; Young Pens

QUETTA - Quetta Deputy Inspector General (Operations) Fayyaz Ahmed Sumbal on Monday said two cops had been arrested for providing weapons and other support to banned organisations. Addressing a press conference at the CCPO office, the DIG said that Assistant Sub-inspector (ASI) Yahya and Constable Muhammad Karim were detained in connection with alleged links with the banned religious entities some days back. “During the interrogation, they confessed to assisting banned outfits in carrying out sectarian attacks,” he said.He said besides sharing information, the detained policemen also provided weapons and shelter to the members of the banned religious outfits. When asked about the alleged involvement of police personnel in the easy escape of inmates from Cantt police station on Sunday, the DIG said that a case had been registered against six cops and investigation was underway."No one, whether in Police Department or outside will be spared if found guilty in the escape of two prisoners," he added. Highlighting police performance in busting gangs of outlaws involved in heinous crimes, he said that during the last couple of months, a number of criminal rings were ruined, besides a special security plan for the provincial capital had helped a lot in maintaining peace in the city. He noted that the accused allegedly involved in the kidnapping of former advocate general of Balochistan Salahuddin Mengal had been nabbed from Mastung and soon the missing AG would be recovered.-

A New Zealand soldier in Bamiyan, Afghanistan. Photograph: Emma Graham-Harrison for the Guardian

The people of Bamiyan raged against Black Hawk helicopters swooping too close to the empty niches that once held their colossal Buddha statues, blown up the Taliban in 2001, because the choppers' thundering vibrations set off showers of the remaining fragments of mud and stones. By and large though they not only tolerated but welcomed the military base that until last month perched on the outskirts of their small town in the highlands of central Afghanistan.

"There are New Zealand soldiers, so there is no Taliban," said Ibrahim Chaman, a mobile phone seller whose father was killed by the hardline group over a decade ago. "When they leave, the Taliban for sure will return."

That affection made it an unusual, perhaps unique outpost in Nato's web of sprawling camps and fortified outposts across the country, often resented by the people they aimed to protect.

Its closure in April was equally singular, with New Zealand's governor general and what seemed like half the country's government flown out on a Hercules military plane from Dubai, to say goodbye to a valley that has firmly etched itself into the consciousness of the distant nation.

Commanders of other bases have kept their demise low-key, with troops slipping away into the night, sometimes leaving piles of debris behind. By contrast, the late afternoon ceremony in Bamiyan was packed with journalists. After solemn tributes to 10 fallen soldiers, the gathering dusk echoed with optimistic speeches from officials highlighting improvements in healthcare, agriculture and education brought by foreign troops and their cash, and the growing strength of local security forces.

But when the New Zealand, Malaysian and US flags were lowered, leaving the Afghan flag fluttering alone as darkness fell, there was a sense that shadows of a more ominous kind were also gathering over the quiet valley.

Bamiyan is a magical place, where the ghosts of long-lost power and opulence haunt a valley of spectacular natural beauty. Near the university lie the ruins of a citadel untouched since Genghis Khan sacked it in the 13th century, and although the giant Buddhas lie in fragments, frescos painted over a millennium ago still cling to corners of monastic caves that honeycomb the cliff around them.

It is also haunted by more recent spectres, memories of those killed in Taliban massacres barely a decade ago. Home to a heavily persecuted ethnic and religious minority, it has remained one of the safest places in Afghanistan, partly because the memory of that suffering fuels profound hostility towards the insurgency.

Mistrust of Afghans not from the local Hazara ethnic minority runs so deep that when the defence ministry was stationing troops across the country years ago, Bamiyan asked to go without. It is protected only by police, who in Afghanistan are usually recruited locally, and intelligence officers who will take over the New Zealand base.

That was fine when Afghanistan's insurgency was largely contained, Taliban fighters still focused on areas like Helmand, and Bamiyan was left to its peaceful existence. It was probably the only place in the country where diplomats wandered freely and met Afghans beyond blast walls and security checks that constrict embassy life elsewhere. Even soldiers visited spectacular historical sites in the area, confident they would not be targeted, unthinkable on any other base I have visited in Afghanistan.

So great was the sense of security that Bamiyan was chosen by Nato to be the very first place in the country where Afghan forces officially took over from foreign troops, although the ceremony in 2011 was just a nominal shift to pave the way for real changes this year.

But since then the insurgency has spread and violence lapped steadily closer to this virtual island of calm, isolated by mountain peaks rather than water. First one, then both roads to Kabul became a dangerous lottery. The head of the provincial council, a popular man who had done much to help development in a desperately poor area, was abducted and slaughtered in 2011. A US engineer is among the many others killed on the roads since.

The security of the province itself was next to crumble, with fighters pushing in heavily from the east but also testing boundaries to the west. Half of the New Zealand troops killed in combat during the decade-long mission died last August in the Do Ab area bordering Baghlan province, and their April departure was six months earlier than originally planned.

For those left behind, the threat is tangible. "I don't see any Taliban in Bamiyan, but when the foreign soldiers leave they will return and be strong," said Haider Mohammad, a 37-year-old who sold souvenirs to New Zealand troops for six years. Watching as preparations for the farewell ceremony got under way, he added: "When they go, I will leave as well."

On the base, there was almost an air of celebration after the handover. Soldiers barbecued a whole lamb and visitors clambered up a low blast wall for views to the niches where the Buddhas once stood. Gazing out at the starlit cliff that held the Buddhas, I remembered a man I had met in Bamiyan bazaar years earlier, infamous in the town because he had been forced as a prisoner to spend days stuffing dynamite into the giant statues. Blowing them up took days of hard labour, as other fundamentalists who had tried in vain years earlier found out. The Taliban were more persistent.

• This article was amended on 15 May 2013 because the original said New Zealand's head of state visited Bamiyan in April. This has been corrected to say governor general.

Ruquiya Hashmi, a doctor and a former soldier, faces a double challenge — as well as being Hazara she is also the first woman to stand in Quetta for the national assembly. For the past few days she has had threatening phone calls and letters sent to her offices. She is running for Pakistan Muslim League-Q (PML-Q), an ally of the outgoing government, but she is determined to stand up to the extremists. In the city that has become the epicentre for record sectarian bloodshed in Pakistan, Shia candidates are braving death threats to make themselves heard in Saturday’s election. – Photos and text by Agencies

Tuesday, May 7, 2013

In the city that has become the epicentre of sectarian bloodshed in Pakistan, Shiite Muslim candidates are braving death threats to make themselves heard in Saturday's election.

Shiites make up around a fifth of Pakistan's 180 million population but they are caught in a rising tide of sectarian hatred, targeted by extremist Sunni Muslim bombers and vilified on the campaign trail.

Quetta, capital of the southwestern province of Baluchistan, has been a focus for much of the violence and two devastating bombings earlier this year killed nearly 200 people from the city's ethnic Hazara Shiite population.

Banned Sunni extremist organisation Lashkar-e-Jhangvi (LeJ), which has links to Al-Qaeda, claimed the attacks and vowed to strike again.

The authorities stepped up security in some Hazara districts of Quetta but those running for office say the threats to their lives are so great that they are unable to move around freely to canvass for votes.

Ruquiya Hashmi, a doctor and a former soldier, faces a double challenge -- as well as being Hazara she is also the first woman to stand in Quetta for the national assembly.

For the past few days she has had threatening phone calls and letters sent to her offices. She is running for Pakistan Muslim League-Q, an ally of the outgoing government, but she is determined to stand up to the extremists.

"I'm lucky I'm a very brave woman. It's very challenging being a woman, being a Hazara, but God willing I will face the challenges and I will raise my voice," she said.... Continue Reading....

The snooker club which was first targeted by terrorists in the January 10 attackon the Hazara Shias of Mariabad is being reconstructed, and the crater that formed on the road outside in the second — more devastating blast — the same day has been filled up. But memories of that afternoon will take much more to fade as the community lives in perpetual fear.

The January 10 attack and the one in mid-February on the other Hazara settlement in the provincial capital — where 90 people were killed in a single blast — have not only made fear a constant companion of the community but also affected their lives in ways they least expected.

The tightening of security in the two settlements has ghettoized the community even more. With no one allowed into the two areas without identification, shopkeepers complained that their businesses were suffering as now they catered for only the Hazara community since people from other neighbourhoods and ethnicities avoid shopping here because of the restrictions.

“The increased security has in a way spelt doom for our little businesses,” Sher Mohammad told a group of visiting foreign journalists. And with many a member of the community wary of stepping outside the localities for fear of being targeted by the Lashkar-e-Jhangvi (LeJ), limited liquidity is affecting spending power. Some months ago, the LeJ launched an SMS service in some places of the city, asking people to report to a certain mobile number as soon as they spot a Hazara who are easily recognizable because of their Mongoloid features.

Those working in government offices say their colleagues and seniors understand their predicament and allow them to skip work in case word gets around of a heightened threat on any given day. The provincial government, both Hazaras and non-Hazaras vouch, has been accommodating in this regard. That consideration, however, does not extend to those working in the private sector. With little option but to go out and work, they do so with their hearts in their mouth.

Since the two settlements are old with schools within the area, schooling has not been as much affected as higher education. Attendance of Hazara students tends to be erratic, though they have returned to their colleges; but their education under these circumstances is a concern for the community that attaches great importance to education of both boys and girls.

At the Balochistan University of Information Technology Engineering & Management Sciences (BUITEMS), Hazara students and teachers flagged the ironical situation created by a security arrangement. After a bomb attack on a bus ferrying students from the community killed three students and a teacher last year right outside the university’s main gate, the bus service to the two Hazara settlements was discontinued as a security arrangement.

Consequently, the students now have to wait for the university buses at designated points well outside their colonies, exposing themselves to the risk of being attacked in ones and twos that had become a fairly regular feature last year. Though such attacks have reduced since the two big bombings this year, fear has taken permanent residence in their lives.

According to Abdul Khaliq Hazara, chairman of the Hazara Democratic Party (HDP), many members of his community have fled the country. He puts the number at one lakh, but there is no data to substantiate this claim. “We want to leave, but that is not an easy option. Neither is moving to another city in Pakistan as Shias are targeted everywhere and we are easily recognizable,” explained Asadullah Hazara on Alamdar Road, which made it to international headlines when members of the community picketed the thoroughfare in sub-zero temperatures with the bodies of their dead in January.

In the case of the Hazara political leadership, the threat has also affected their election campaign. The HDP leader — who is contesting the general election from Quetta — rued that he was unable to campaign outside the Hazara areas because of the threat. Though Quetta has always been a multi-ethnic city with all communities living in harmony, the growing radicalisation of society has made Hazaras unsure of their Baloch and Pashtoon neighbours, particularly the former since the police claim that there is a linkage between the sectarian Lashkar-e-Jhangvi and some of the Baloch insurgent groups.

The community feels so traumatised now by living on the edge day in and day out that one resident of Mariabad — who did not want to be identified — said: “The situation is such that now even if the terrorists do not want to attack, we are stricken with fear.”

Almost all aspects of their day-to-day lives have been affected, but leaving is not an option for Quetta’s Hazara since Shias are targeted everywhere in Pakistan

Sunday, May 5, 2013

Quetta: When a suicide bomber detonated a vehicle rigged with 300-kg of explosives in a Hazara Shia neighbourhood in this southwestern Pakistani city in January, Sher Mohammed and his friends spent the next few hours collecting body parts.

"We found body parts on the roads, on the roofs of buildings. We collected three bags of body parts, each bag weighing 20-kg. About 12 people were simply blown to pieces," Mohammed said at Alamdar Road, which was targeted by two suicide bombers on that cold winter's night.

On January 10, one bomber entered a snooker club in the basement of a commercial building and blew himself up.

As policemen, rescue teams and local residents converged on the narrow street outside the club, another bomber detonated an explosives-laden ambulance about 10 minutes later.

The two bombings, claimed by the banned Lashkar-e-Jhanvi, killed 96 people and injured dozens more.

Most of the dead were Hazara Shias, including 10 policemen from the minority community that has been repeatedly targeted by the al-Qaeda-linked LeJ.

Deputy Inspector General of Police (Operations) Fayyaz Ahmed said the ambulance was packed with 300 kg of home-made explosives.

"The damage was on a scale we had not expected," he said. Nearly four months after the bombings, the building with the snooker club has been repaired and is about to reopen for business.

A crater in the street has been filled up, a screen has been put up to cover the damage caused by the second blast and few signs remain of the attacks.

But Sher Mohammed, 45, says he still feels uneasy when he remembers the devastation caused by the suicide bombers.

"There were bodies with no heads, no eyes, no limbs. Some had organs missing. Three men who were volunteers along with me for an ambulance service run by the Noor Welfare Society were killed. Everyone I know lost a relative or a friend," said Mohammed, who owns a butcher's shop.

All along Alamdar Road, there are posters with photographs of men who died in the January 10 bombings.

As a group of foreign journalists visited the neighbourhood this afternoon, a man came up to them and held up a board with the picture of a relative killed in the attack.

With authorities putting in place strict security arrangements for the Hazara Shias, who stand out due to their distinctive features, members of the community say business and normal life has been affected by threats from terrorists as well as the presence of security forces.

"We know the security personnel are here for our protection but they don't allow outsiders to enter the area. I have lost customers who were from other communities, like Punjabis and Pashtuns. We rarely go out of Mariabad, where most of us live," said Mohammed.

Asadullah, a 20-year-old Hazara youth who owns a small shop, said he would prefer to go away from Quetta to put behind him the constant threat of attacks. "If I had the money, I would leave. I would go anywhere," he said.